Obviously, this rite of passage happened sooner than Lynnette and I planned. Madison slept over at my parents’ house last night on a whim, and she’s got to stay after school later this week for a science team tryout. She’s also gone out with some of her friends’ families on the weekend. There are work arounds that would/could have precluded this bold step, but none of them were as convenient as just getting Madison her own phone, already. OK, maybe I was also tired of fighting the inevitable.
Is it the smart phone she’s been badgering us about since she figured out how to use an iPad? No, thank God. But as you can tell by her wry smile here, she was happy just to get a phone to call her own. She’s 10 and she’s got her very own flip phone and if she somehow gets a smart phone at any point in the next decade, then she’ll outpace my father who used a non-smart phone for his first 6 or so two-year contracts with Sprint. Incredible.
She’s spent the afternoon acquainting herself with the phone and has already taken to it quicker than I could have ever imagined:
That first exchange came when her phone was first activated. She beamed from ear to ear the first time Lynnette called her phone and they had a 30-second conversation while they were about 5 feet away from each other.
As we drove home from our errands, I was in the passenger seat whispering sweet somethings into Lynnette’s ear and rubbing her right shoulder. That’s when Madison texted me from the back seat at 12:58. I laughed out loud when I read it. “Dummy.” I said. “Don’t call my daughter ‘dummy’,” Lynnette said. When we came to a red light, I showed Lynnette the message and she scoffed and said “dummy.” Madison cackled in the backseat and the sound of her evil laughter sent me adrift into thoughts of what exactly have I done?
And then, finally, as we watched Pitch Perfect 2, she messaged me to remind me that the fateful scene with the Green Bay Packers – the scene which ended her support of the Dallas Cowboys – was up next. It was then that I knew exactly what I had done: given a troll another way to get to me.
Lynnette posted about Mad’s big step on Facebook and the comments rolled in. Here are some of the best, followed by my response.
“Good luck!” -Lynie, Lynnette’s sister.
“She’s growing up!!!” -Corrie, my cousin.
“Whyyyyyyyy!?!” -Paul, my brother
It’s human nature.
“Hello Madison. Call or text Papa.” -Lynnette’s dad
Thanks for the support?
“Does she want Jeremiah’s number?” -Chris, my friend, referring to his son
We can’t be friends anymore.
“Oh wow! We’re trying to hold off as long as we can with our daughter. BUT, like you guys, might be sooner rather than later.” -Hazel, Lynnette’s friend
Good luck to you.
“OMG” – Jane, my friend
“Look forward to texting her!” Chelsea, Lynnette’s cousin
I have no idea if Madison is ready for a phone or any of the many added responsibilities the next few years will bring, but the only way were ever find out anything is by trying. Like everything else, I suppose there will be some growing pains and like always, we’ll push through them. For now, we’ll see if she can go without losing it or letting Cole and/or Avery get their sticky hands on it for the first week.
I don’t know. I look at this picture – the phone, the jewelry, the nail polish, and the smirk – and I know she’s growing up. We can’t fight it, so I figure it’s best to support it. Personally, the troll in me – the same one that’s taught Mad so well in the dark/dork arts – can’t wait for her to figure out that we’ve bought her a very long leash masquerading as a phone. She ought to get a real kick out of that one.